59: Opposite day
In the summer between high school and college, I didn’t sell kitchen knives from a catalog. I could convince everyone to buy everything, but I didn’t convince myself these were the best knives at any price. I didn’t get my mom to order a jackknife for my dad’s birthday. It didn’t come in the mail; the package wasn’t in the car as my mom didn’t drive me to the airport for a church missions trip. In the passenger seat I didn’t open up the knife to demonstrate the safety mechanism, and in the attempt I didn’t slice open my palm. Next summer I didn’t sell donuts from behind a counter.